


A Love That's So Demanding

by InLoveAndSqualor



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, Bandom - Freeform, Light BDSM, M/M, MCR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-13
Updated: 2008-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InLoveAndSqualor/pseuds/InLoveAndSqualor





	1. C1 A Love That's So Demanding

Finding him like this... So helpless... It was too perfect.

Passed out from drink and drugs... He was in such a perfect, vulnerable, state. This dark unsettling lust that drowned my senses, infected me instantly.

When I saw him lying there, there were no doubts. It had always been there waiting to emerge, to break free from my mask of placid indifference that I had always tried so desperately to show him. I had felt it burning in the corners of my mind for years and years now. I try not to be this person. Everyday I ignore the voices in my head... Try to control the double-fast beating of my heart every time he’s around... But tonight these voices scream and howl and they won’t let me rest. I look around the dingy backstage room and my mind races.

I fumble behind me, turning the latch, locking them out... Locking us in. I step forward and let my fingers graze the things that lie discarded on the fold-out tables. Surrounding us are amps, clothes, guitars, wires…. My hand finally rests on the roll of duct tape I had used only hours ago to tape our set list to the grotty venue’s stage floor. I’d thought then how pleasing that tearing noise was….. As I do now. I walk forward slowly, savouring every glorious second of anticipation that hums in my body and makes my head spin. As I approach the camp bed Frank stirs and I catch my breath thinking I’ve lost my chance. But he only brushes away the silky raven strands of hair that had fallen against his lips. I reach down and let my fingers hover over that rose coloured mouth. Hot air, strange and sensual gives me just enough of a thrill to resist actual contact.

Not yet, I mustn’t rush, I mustn’t risk messing this up.

Carefully I lean over his body, lift my right leg and allow my knee to settle between his ribs and hip, painfully slowly I lift the other onto the bed on the opposite side. I cant let him wake, my mind screams, yells, cries, you cant let this slip away. I avoid allowing any of my weight to rest on his body. My breathing is turning fast, shallow, laboured. My chest is tight. I’m so excited I can barely subdue the shakes. The shivering is in every part of my being, I feel it my mind, in my flesh and in my bones. I rip a part of the duct tape away from its reel and lay it beside me. This is it. Here goes. Take the plunge. Risk it all.

This heady lust makes me feel intoxicated. I can’t see straight. I pick up his hands in mine, slide down to his wrists and lift them slowly, strangely effortlessly above his head. I lay them on the small metal bar above his head and reach slowly for the tape. I see his eyelids flutter. Come on. Quicker Gerard. I wrap the tape around and over those slender wrists, over the harsh metal bar that I know will hurt when he begins to struggle. I wrap over and under again and again. I cant leave anything to chance now. Finished and amazed I stare in awe at my perfect wasted angel. Long dark eyelashes now brushing against the pale skin that lies below them. I’m certain he’ll wake soon. 

Leaning down carefully placing a hand each side of his head, careful to allow no weight on his body, I let my lips hover over his. Soon, I promise myself. Leaning up slightly I begin with one hand to loosen his tie, eventually releasing it from his shirt collar. I take it in both shaking hands. I can barely fold but I manage to feebly succeed, making it small - just the right size. Short breath and a growing hardness in my pants makes me take the final risk. Slowly with two fingers I part his lips further than they already lie. Excited I speed up, opening his mouth fully, I stuff in the make shift gag. I rip off another length of duct tape quickly and slap it over a surprised mouth. Oh god yes he’s awake. My erection pushes hard against my jeans now. That sight so incredibly beautiful. The shocked eyes staring at me confused and scared.

“It’s ok Frank. This’ll be ok,” I whisper. 

My mind races, I let my weight fall onto him and I rip open his shirt with all my strength. I see buttons fly all around me, I hear them hit the floor, bouncing on the cold hard surface. I run greedy fingers over that perfect, warm, white chest. He is so insanely beautiful. This isn’t my fault. He is more temptation than I can take. I’m just not strong enough. I look down at that chest and I see it rise and fall so fast I can hardly believe it. I place a quieting hand on his breast bone and raise a finger to my lips. 

“Sssshhhhh…..” and then I let it fall and laugh. 

I know it all too well, that I’m a fucked up evil loser. A loser who has dreamed of this since the day we met. Giving up, giving in, it felt so fucking good.

I trace my hand down from the top of his chest where it had rested, to the belt of his jeans, to that irresistible abdomen, to that button that I could so easily just pull open and… And… God this is too much and I know I must do this right. I look to the table beside me and see a pack of cigarettes. I take one and place it in my mouth. I stare at Frank intently, his eyes seemed to beg with me, plead with me to stop this, but no, fuck that, it’s too late for that. I light the cigarette but my eyes never move from his. I breathe in that beautiful poisonous smoke and it tastes so good. I inhale and exhale; and I feel insane. How can he be so beautiful? Why must he always be there tempting me? And how can he not expect me to react? I smile at him but its not for him, its for me. I take a final drag on the cigarette and then grin again as I lean down and stub it out on his chest. He bucks and struggles underneath me and moans into the gag I made for him. I see tears gathering in his eyes, one rolling down his left cheek, taking with it a trace of his carefully drawn eyeliner.

I want to feel wrong.

I want to feel bad, but that pretty face, that perfect body has been torturing me for so long now. Torture that felt so wonderful and yet so unbearable. 

I kiss that tear from his cheek and taste its salty warmth. This is it, I think. You can have what you always wanted. Both hands trail down to his waistband and fondle with the button. But then the most soul destroying, moment killing sound. 

“Gerard. Gerard… you in there? It’s me….. Mikey. Frank ok?” 

Shit no. My mind it screams at me. No not now, not when I’m so close. I slowly lean up, sit up and pull myself from my bound lover. The head rush is so beautiful, so intense as I straighten up. Please Mikey, go away. I try to catch my breath. I need to sound normal. I need to get rid of him. I laugh, it sounds high-pitched and broken. 

“We’re cool,” I say unconvincingly. 

“Frank here’s just a little bit wasted but I’m gonna let him sleep it off. Why don’t you do the same huh?” 

God you sound stupid, I think. He knows, he knows, my paranoid brain drones. 

“Uh huh… well I hope everything’s ok….” He begins. 

“Everything’s cool,” I laugh. 

Again this sounds wrong. I hear Mikey sigh and I imagine the look I know is currently on his face. The moment killed I stare back at Frank. Do I really want to do this to him, hurt him? I love him, but this lust, this need is too strong, this urge is too much to resist. I hear Mikey walk away along the hall and I take a step forward…

 

How did it come to this? 

How did it all become so fucked up? 

The only one I ever truly loved in pain. 

And to my abhorrence... I am in utter ecstasy. 

An intoxicating sense of power fills every inch of my mind and is bleeding into my body.

This intense feeling has taken over me so completely. 

I feel evil to the core. 

I feel my face twisting, smiling, drunk with desire. 

I bite my lip. I can feel it... Just. 

Pale skin shivers in front of me in the cold darkness and inside I beg to touch. 

Can I do this to him?

Can I be that selfish…? 

Can I let it all go and just take what I want? 

I stare at cold glimmering sweat on milky skin and I want to lick it off. Lick it off and bite that porcelain surface. 

I walk forwards. 

Towards the only person that exists in my world now. 

“I love you Frank”, I whisper.

But my lover, he can’t reply.


	2. C2 A Love That's So Demanding

Standing over Frank I feel numb to all the usual feelings his face evokes. I don’t feel ashamed, confused, scared or unworthy at this moment. The way I feel... It’s how gods should feel. I look down at adrenaline wracked hands, they’re shaking so violently; and I know it’s the knowledge that all my desires, dreams, imaginings are possible. The thoughts that plagued my mind, haunted my dreams and tortured my conscience will all soon be true. I glance down and drink in his helpless visage. He looks scared, an emotion that I have never seen taint his perfect features before. He’s always been so strong, looked so unbreakable. Will this….? What I’m about to do…? Will I break him? 

I prowl to the end of the bed, I feel ready to pounce. I feel lethal. After the previous interruption I posses a new heightened sense of urgency in my actions. I place one knee on the bed and immediately Frank raises his legs. With speed that shocks even myself I grab his slender thighs, digging my fingers into flesh, into muscle. Bringing my other knee onto the bed I hold steady my grip. I am so incredibly filled by my own sense of power that the memory of the man that I am, that I used to be, is erased. 

Erect and impatient I hesitantly release my hold on Frank and unbutton, then unzip. It’s all too certain now, I am on that inevitable unfaltering track of fate, stuck to the rails, I am a moth to a flame. Roughly I grab his waist band with both hands, the force causing his hips to arch upwards and his eyes to widen with shock and the now familiar look of pain. I slide the button from its captive home and make light work of his fly. I do not for a second avert my eyes from the white skin of his abdomen that I am slowly revealing. Frank you are my world. I am destroying my world, my reason to be, at a frightening, uncontrollable pace. My hands move round and grip the sides of his tight black jeans and underwear, as I pull back, they slide off. I throw them to the floor, in a swift single movement. I’m lost in his eyes now, completely sucked in by their dark wonder. I am swimming in their depth, and maybe, just maybe, I’m drowning. 

Swiftly, mercilessly I enter him and I gasp with the shock of this intense flood of pleasure that crashes into and around me. He is so warm and tight that I can barely comprehend. I just distantly hear the muffled cries, the result of the pain I inflict and Frank endures. Unsteadily I place my palms into the hollows of his hips, wrapping my fingers around his bony sides. I slowly begin to move, and he is so tight he is crushing me. Intense pleasure more than I could ever conceive is taking over. 

I start to move rhythmically, faster, and recognise that my gasps and moans are now clearly audible; set against Frank’s stifled cries. I look at his face and I see that his eyes lids are shut, tightly forced together and his features are contorted into an expression I barely recognise. Is it pain? The thought sends a wave of pleasure into me, through me and I can’t help but let out a deep groan. I am so close that I feel out of control, unsure of my own body’s reactions. 

Oh god moan for me, let out a cry, a scream of pain. I want to articulate all these thoughts, but my heavy shaking breathing won’t allow me to speak. All I know is I want to hear him, I want to make tangible how I am making him feel, reap the results of my violation. I lift shaking hands to a tear soaked face, that turns away. Close to climax and determined I grasp the edge of the tape that silences my bound friend. I pull quickly, definitely. I feel ready to scream, to ignite, as I slip a finger into the corner of his damp hot mouth and remove the only thing that now stood between me and the glorious sound that I longed for. 

I hear him. 

I can hear him scream, moan, cry and the world starts to grow smaller. My reality is shrinking as the sides of my vision turn black. 

I don’t care who hears, who knows, as I slide my hands up to his shoulders, gripping around their slender frame, bruising the flawless white flesh below. My last thrust is deep and violent, desperate and demanding. A final cry escapes out from deep within me, in a voice I don’t even recognise as my own and I come in a glorious hot tidal wave. Encroaching slowly and then devastating all. 

The pounding in my ears tells me that my heart is still beating, that I’m still alive. My hands move unconsciously from gripping his shoulders to cross over under his back. Oh God I am falling into an embrace. I breathe deeply into Frank’s neck. I feel his pulse drumming against my lips. Don’t let go. I don’t want to pull away or look up. I don’t want to look into those eyes. Eyes that are surely dressed in anger, touched by pain, utterly devastated by sadness and betrayal. Hatred must surely be visible where that precious spark once lay, that spark that shown through hazel eyes and forced smiles and broke countless hearts. He breathes quietly. Shallow little desperate gasps that are barely audible over the irregular beating of his heart. And then Frank takes a sharp intake of breath followed by whispered words. 

“Thank you,” he sighs. 

I bury my face harder into the crook of his neck, despairing that he had finally begun to speak, and that I would have to face the reality of my crimes. I was deaf to the words he had uttered, their meaning lost to me, all I heard was the tones of speech. 

“You’re amazing Gerard…. That was amazing.” 

Then silence ringing clear. 

I am starting to come round, gain comprehension. My God what is he saying? What does he mean? Shakily, full of nerves, I pry myself away from the comforting contact of warm skin. I take a sideways glance and see tear stained cheeks, I want to reach up and try to brush away the unbearable wetness. Too late I’m frozen. Jesus just try to be a fucking man. 

“How did you know? How could you….?” Frank stutters and I hold my breath in fear. 

“That this is what I had always dreamt of. That I am stupid and weak, and dream of us like this. Think things…. I shouldn’t.” He sighs deeply, drawing in breath. 

“Gerard I’m so sorry. Sorry for wanting this, sorry for wanting you to…. To hurt me.” 

I am forced to breathe now. I know I am the one who should be sorry, and I am so deeply so. I want to say, articulate into words the immense guilt in my mind. I want to tell him I didn’t know, I didn’t have a clue. This was a selfish, wicked act and foolishly, innocently you see me as your martyr. 

Whatever wrong I do, however much of a monster I turn into, I will always be a hero to you. And in your minds eye you will twist my every wrong word and my every wrong deed so that I remain so.

I don’t know what to do, what to say. I brush away tears from his anguished face and kiss his brow. I am the worst kind of person. I am the fucking antichrist. I didn’t suffer for your sins, you have suffered with mine. I reach up unsteadily and slowly unwrap tape from reddened wrists. I look down at their spoilt beauty, marred by my impurity, and I want to weep. How could I have thought to touch like that something of which I am not worthy? I hold his cheek, kiss his neck, move down to his chest. I feel utterly subservient. I want to appease. I want forgiveness, redemption of any kind. I let my fingers tangle amongst sweat soaked hair, and I realise I am a supplicant in prayer. I am nothing like a god, whilst he is omniscient, omnipresent. Frank is all, he is everything. He always has been. His hands move in slow motion towards me and I want to shy away from his touch. I don’t deserve it. This. 

I let my fingers stumble, fall down to his neck, where they are greeted by shallow gasps. I move down to his chest, his abdomen and finally find his waiting erection. I wrap my hand round tentatively, slowly, looking up to his face for any signs of approval. He responds with an arch of his hips and lifts his hand to my face. His unsteady breathing is the most intensely sexual sound I have ever heard. Reassured and enraptured by my lovers pleasure I begin a slow pumping of his member. I lean forward, unable to stop myself, and capture his lips in a desperate kiss. This is right. This is wonderful. Muffled moans reverberate around my tongue, and I melt at the heat of his mouth. But all too soon he pulls away. 

“Gerard….” he begins. “I…..I think…” each word is superseded by a gasp, a moan. 

“I think I love yo…...” 

He is cut of by his own incredibly vocal climax. It shatters through the air and penetrates my skin, entering my very being. It ripples in the atmosphere and bounces off the walls. And just when I think I am entirely lost in that sound, dead to all other senses. I feel the hot, wet, result of my lovers orgasm running down my hand. 

“Oh Jesus…” he murmurs, and falls hard against me. 

He grasps me tight and I clutch him in return; desperate never to lose this moment. I try to catch my breath, calm my body. And I know I must never let him know the truth. I know I must never let him see. See what I truly am. Understand what I’m truly capable of, what I did. I feel his heaving chest clash with mine, the rhythm of our breathing slightly at odds. 

This is heaven, I am finally in heaven. 

Frank slowly frees his arms from our desperate, almost violent hold on each other. He looks at me. He looks at this worthless man. I feel a tear escape from the corner of my eye and roll down my cheek. I am staring at that heavenly face. I see that his pure heart, his perfect spirit shines through.

“I never knew that love that was so perfect, and that felt this amazing, could exist.”

He laughs softly.

I want to curl up into the tiniest ball and just rot and die.

“I sound stupid,” he half whispers, half laughs again.

“No. No…..” 

I am shaking my head, looking down. Unable, completely incapable of facing him now.

In my head the voices are back for vengeance. They don’t want to let me rest. They tear viciously at my soul, and punch holes where they see weakness. One of them, the loudest of all, screams in a voice that I recognise as my own. I hear all too clear the words it pronounces to me. They echo around my skull and painfully I concede that they are true.

Through the blackness of my mind that one message shines through.

‘You are a monster.’


End file.
